Evangeline Lim
It’s a sunny Monday afternoon when Sanjay and I meet outside of Kiklo Cafe, nestled beside Stanley Hall. The Berkeley campus hums with chatter and hurried footsteps. The vast stretch of grass to our right provides the perfect view for our conversation. We settle into a wooden table beneath the shade of a tree, momentarily withdrawn from the rush.
Sanjay (’99), who double-majored in Rhetoric and Economics at UC Berkeley, reminisces about what it feels like to be back. Raised in the Bay Area, Sanjay has since built an impressive career far from the quiet corners of Doe Library.
Now, under CBS Studios, he is the showrunner and executive producer of Everybody Still Hates Chris, the animated reboot of the beloved sitcom co-created with Chris Rock for Comedy Central and Paramount+. Before that, he was the co-showrunner/executive producer of Apple’s animated Central Park. His writing credits span Pixar’s Dream Productions, Fresh Off the Boat, King of the Hill, and even South Park. He’s sold pilots to nearly every major platform—Netflix, Hulu, FOX, and more—and written for both live-action and animation at studios like Sony and Universal. Beyond the screen, Sanjay mentors emerging writers through the Sundance Institute’s Episodic Lab.
We chat two hours before Sanjay is set to give his Art of Writing talk on “Writing From Hollywood.”
Have you always been interested in the art of storytelling?
No. I fell into what I do. I had no idea what I was doing and felt fairly lost in college. I was a stockbroker. I worked as a legislative aide. I was an EMT and ran a restaurant. I did a lot of different jobs. But then, when I started doing stand-up as a hobby, there was a storytelling aspect to it.
He explains how his pivot to storytelling didn’t occur until after graduation. He believes that humans innately love stories because we’re designed to connect with them and with each other. Storytelling finally became his path after several careers.
[Stand-up] was an organic way of finding my way onto a television writing staff and a professional writing job. And some of the classes I took were accidentally really helpful.
Can you walk me through any experiences at Cal that, in hindsight, influenced where you ended up, or some experiences that led you to pursue your career?
As Rhetoric majors, we did a lot of writing. It was great to be in a major that really had an excellent practical skill that you were practicing over and over again, even if it was for theoretical purposes. But the actual act of writing so much and thinking about writing and why we write the way that we do and how to make an argument was utterly practical for a variety of careers.
He describes a particular moment in his Senior Year, when he took Rhetoric 103B. Before this class, Sanjay had felt insecure about his writing at Cal, comparing himself to his peers who came from what he believed were “great public and private schools.”
I saw their writing and how quickly they wrote. They were just operating at a different level. And I worked at it, but I worked at it in the wrong way. I was forcing myself to use big words and really long, complicated sentence structures, and was trying too hard.
Then, one night before a Rhetoric 103B paper that he’d been procrastinating on was due, a boxing injury left him concussed. Too dazed to overthink, he woke up the next day and just “spit something out,” not having time to make it too “flowery.”
A few days later, he arrived to find his essay photocopied and distributed to the entire class of 200 students. [The Professor] said he wanted to share with the class an example of someone who wrote simply, clearly, and most importantly, in an entertaining way, encouraging everyone to approach their own writing this way.
That moment shifted something in him: it reframed his simplistic and humorous writing, once seen as a weakness, into a strength. He realized he was not the only one who was “trying too hard” with his writing.
Now I take it as a badge of honor that I labor to write complex ideas simply. Because I want a 5-year-old or a 95-year-old to be able to understand the emotion I’m conveying, the idea that I’m conveying, or the joke that I’m conveying.
How exactly did you jump into the entertainment industry from stand-up, and what was your occupational journey?
I was broke. I’ve been basically working since I was 11. I paid my way through Cal myself. I didn’t have the luxury of someone backing me up financially. And so, I was always taking jobs where I was learning something; it was something I wanted just to see if I was interested in, or it was paying a lot of money.
I started doing stand-up on the side while I was still working in state politics for Ted Lieu when he was an assembly member before he became a congressman down in LA. I was doing stand-up just out of interest, but it was time. I tell people in their twenties it’s really good to say yes to things, and I was just saying yes to a lot of things. An opportunity came up to do stand-up and open for someone who went on to become pretty famous.
Even though he wasn’t making money from stand-up, he continued because he enjoyed it so much. Eventually, he had just completed a good show at the Comedy Store in LA, alongside another comic with a good set, who was further along in her stand-up career. He asked for her advice on starting to make an income from stand-up, and she gave him a roadmap.
She said, “You should think about writing jokes for half-hour comedies on TV.” And I said, “I don’t even know how to approach that!” She then gave me the rough version: you write a couple of samples, then when you write something good, you try to get an agent, and that agent will get you meetings. And then, in the meeting, you need to be charming and really seem like you could be a team player as well. Then you try to get on a staff and, once you’re on a staff, you write jokes, you write scripts, and then you hopefully are well-liked enough and are doing good work, so they continue hiring you at that show or other shows.
It took Sanjay two to three years to write something he thought was good enough to send to an agent. That agent ended up representing him, and three months later, he was on his first job. And now, he’s been in the industry for 20 years.
You have worked in both animation and live-action. You did script writing, but also show running. Why do you prefer writing for different genres or partaking in other styles as opposed to one niche?
Because I like money, and I need money to pay for things. It really comes down to that. I’m medium-agnostic, and I have many interests. I’m just a person enslaved to my interests, wanting to experience as many different things as possible.
He recalls his start in animation, working on a show he was already a fan of, King of the Hill. Then, he was working on South Park, another show he loved. While he could’ve stayed on the animation track, one reason he didn’t was his interest in the more “classic” Hollywood experience. He wanted to experience being on set with actors and celebrities. He also wanted to expand his resume so he could be a writer with range, increasing his chances of being hired.
Having worked most of my life, I knew that when I chose the life of an artist—and it took me a long time to admit to myself that writing is an art because I felt really corny about it—but when I chose the life of an artist, I always felt that to be a starving artist is unacceptable. It’s a luxury, especially for someone like me. So writing across different genres was out of a desire to stretch my brain, experience new things, and keep my interest going. Because otherwise, just like with my other jobs, I probably would’ve bailed after a couple of years, saying, “Try another new thing.”
Do you have a favorite or most memorable show that you have worked on?
Fresh Off the Boat was the most memorable show to me because it was the first time for a variety of reasons. I loved the show itself. It was covering Eddie Huang. It was his memoir. He and I had a lot of overlapping experiences growing up in an Asian American family in the nineties. We literally had the same minivan as his family in the show. I’ve never gotten to work on a show that feels like my life, so I had a lot to say and contribute.
Up until that point, TV was very homogeneous. It was primarily shows about white people. Then, Fresh Off The Boat came along, and it was the first time it felt like I could write part of my story. And for the most part, up until that point in my career, I would be the only minority on staff, and the only other minority would be the one woman. This show, however, was run by a queer woman of color. And the staff was half female, half male, and it was pretty much half Asian. It was brain-breaking. I never thought I’d get to experience that in my life.
Sanjay recalls Fresh Off The Boat with deep pride, crediting its success to sharp humour, genuine heart, and a talented showrunner. The show’s seven-season run and international resonance affirmed for him how powerful authentic representation could be—especially when it brought families together. He was particularly moved by a photo of four generations watching the show together, a reminder of how television can bridge generations and cultures through shared laughter and storytelling.
Having worked with such a diverse group of people on a diverse show, do you now seek out or try to create similar levels of diversity in your projects?
I think I don’t ever want to tokenize. I never want to hire someone just because of their race or their cultural identity, because I think that’s unfair to them. That said, the work that I choose to do now tends to require people with lived experience. So if I’m writing a show, like the one I just ran about a lower-middle-class black family living in 1980s Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn (Everybody Still Hates Chris), some people are going to have that lived experience.
Sanjay reflects that his “checkered” work history became invaluable when he found his calling as a writer. From tutoring San Quentin prisoners to working on a stock trading floor in San Francisco, his varied, lived experiences gave his writing specificity, authenticity, and a practical edge in the industry. He further describes himself and his peers in comedy as “circus people”—clowns and carnies united by a shared love for humor and performance. For Shah, the essence of his work lies in collaborating with others who share that “comedy brain.” While he values diversity, he emphasizes that his goal isn’t token inclusion, but authentic collaboration that ultimately strengthens the show and its storytelling.
And if the show is better, more people watch it. And if more people watch it, the studio makes more money. And guess what? Then they do more shows like that. If the Fresh Off The Boat staff were like a bunch of guys from Harvard who went to private school, maybe they would’ve written a great show, but there’s no way on earth that they would not have written a show with the specificity that we were able to contribute to it. That lived experience makes your show better and makes the studio more money, so it’s just a smart thing to do for both creative and business reasons.
Do you find it hard to strike a balance between something comedic that makes people laugh and something specific that can reach a large audience?
That’s the whole thing. It should be hard. When you take away the jokes, there should be something that’s really being said.
Sanjay explains that Fresh Off the Boat was groundbreaking because it centered the Asian American family’s perspective rather than making them the punchline. The humor came from seeing the world through their eyes—inviting audiences to laugh with them, not at them—while balancing comedy with authenticity so it never felt preachy.
Sanjay also reflects on the importance of creating characters who feel real and human—people the audience can believe in, root for, or even despise.
Can you talk about the differences that you felt between screenwriting and showrunning?
Showrunner means you’re basically the head writer and the CEO of a show.
On staff, a hundred percent of your job is writing, pitching jokes, sharing ideas, and eating lunch. As you move up the ranks, you’re given a few more managerial, producing-related jobs. Once you’re a showrunner, 10% of your job is writing and 90% is managerial or political, and every day you’re short of a heart attack because you’re dealing with a lot of things.
Sanjay explains that being a showrunner appeals to those who enjoy creativity, control, and unpredictability, as it allows them to build the kind of work environment they want. Having experienced toxic, damaging workplaces in the past, he values the role for the opportunity to foster healthier, more supportive spaces for creatives.
Coming back to Berkeley, what advice do you wish you had heard when you were a student here, particularly for students who have their sights set on breaking into the entertainment industry? Are there any unwritten rules?
Regardless of whether you want to write, direct, produce, be an executive, or an agent, all of us are still in the business because we love storytelling. If you love storytelling, then absorb everything, take classes on everything—even random things that spark your interest within and outside of your major.
Audit things. Join clubs. Just expose yourself to as much of life as you can. Because if you want to be in the business of storytelling, that is the most valuable thing you can get out of college. Do you like whitewater rafting? Join a club where they do that. And then you go on trips where things are going to happen, and that becomes part of your bag of tricks. College is the time to be able to explore all these things in a way that you just don’t get another opportunity to do later in life.
Especially at Berkeley, which is primarily a STEM school compared to SoCal campuses, it feels a little harder to see storytelling as something really tangible.
It’s embarrassing how few Cal alumni I’ve run into in 20 years. That is why I’m here. This is why this conversation even started within the humanities department. I’ve been doing this for 20 years, and I can count on one hand how many times I’ve run into a Cal alumni. And even those that are here, we don’t really have a community.
It’s a voice that’s so badly needed. Because students and campuses look like how America actually looks. And you have a diversity of experiences and economic classes here. These are the people who tell our stories as Americans and become part of who makes decisions about the stories we tell ourselves and how we see ourselves.
And it has political impacts—it affects how we live, how we see each other, and how we treat each other. Storytelling is very important; I’ve always dismissed it, as I’m not a doctor. I’m not saving a life. The truth is, what I’m doing doesn’t have those stakes, but it does have a big impact.
As for not knowing the pipeline, that is part of why I’m here. I will teach a four-week class through the [Art of Writing] program next semester.
I’m teaching a really basic thing. It’s not going to be how to write a script. It will be a very practical lesson on how we pitch stories in Hollywood. By the end of this, you will hopefully have something written down that is like a rough pitch.
This is so you are now in a position to actually go write the thing that I don’t have time to help you with. And then you can work on it and work on it and work on it so that you have a sample that could get you an agent, lawyer, or manager who can get you into the system.
You can go to pitch festivals now and try to win them and get some shine on you so that a rep can pay attention to you, but this is all in service to that first critical step, which is writing something or coming up with a great idea so you get some attention so you can get representation.
Once you get representation, then you can start getting meetings and hopefully get on a writing staff. And once you’re on a writing staff, then you can work your way up.
If you can work your way up and be in a position like I am, you can come back to your university and tell the people who run your department that, when I have a show, please send me Cal students to intern.
Because I will make space for them, because that is how you establish a pipeline. Just like what that stand-up comic did for me backstage at a show, I’m here to say, “Okay, these are the basics. This is how you approach it.”
To learn more about Sanjay’s insights, check out his Art of Writing workshop next Spring. More details to come — follow us on Instagram (@artofwritingucb) to stay updated.